Friday, May 10, 2013

Memphis Heatwave: Running In The Wrong Direction

Arachne sat cross-legged in her room, two cats on her lap. One German Rex of different shades of brown and one Mekong Bobtail, mostly white with some ginger which made the white appear pink. Normally she wouldn't know anything about cat breeds. Normally she hated cats. Her ex told her what breed they were. They were Benedict's cats. She had been sent photos of them. The Bobtail was called Crystal Meth and the Rex was called Tik-Tok. Meth was lying on top of Tik-Tok and washing herself while he pawed at Arachne's leg in an affectionate gesture. Carmichael Hauter had hated Benedict's cats, as well as his girlfriend. Hauter didn't believe in relationships when he was alive. He just believed in lust. When his best friend had gotten himself a girlfriend, he was actually furious. He must have been so happy when Benedict ran off to avoid taking responsibility for Faine. She'd seen him when they had first joined Mevolent. There had been a bit of a pep talk or something for new recruits. She had been standing between Austin and Gale and had caught the man's good eye across the room. He had recognised her before she recognised him and had turned away quickly and attempted to hide amongst others, who had been rather annoyed at him pushing through them. She never tried to confront him or anything, but he did ask at one point about the child, to which she had replied some vague nonsense about leaving little Faine with a relative.

A young man limped in. She looked over. "Yes, Arduous?"
"Uh...I have a contact in the Sanctuary...he has a little kid and he's looking for a temporary carer for it...he asked me if I knew anyone said your daughter was called Faine, right?"
She nodded hesitantly. He smiled widely. "I think I can get you your daughter back." He showed a picture of the agent he was in contact with, with Faine curled up against his chest.


Perseus sighed as he left the hospital wing, wiping wet eyes. Bodies were still being cleared away. Charles was gone now. They were moving others away in a body bag. He passed those taking them away. He didn't know the person in the bag, as far as he was concerned. No, a movement in the bag was what made him stop the two men. He peered closely at the body bag and gasped. "That one's breathing!" He grabbed the zip and yanked it down to give the man inside some air, and he sure as hell was breathing, dark brown eyes half-open and unseeing. They flickered slightly and an arm muscle twitched and Perseus gave a sob of relief. It was Charles, and he was alive. The French men were muttering to one another and one went to heal the pale man. The other went to find Jasmin and announce to him that his best friend was still alive.


The airport was crowded and unpleasant. There was a man sleeping outside and Memphis remembered his teenage years for a brief moment. He wondered if that man had it similar. Had he been in a cushy, comfy life of a semi-spoilt rich kid until he hit about 15 or so. One night he had been forced out onto the streets by the deaths of his parents and was taken into a leaky, poorly heated, uncomfortable shack house by a nineteen-year-old Mage. Amadeus. Anyway, he didn't like the crowds, squishing himself up so he didn't brush against others. He hated being touched by strangers. Their flight was delayed, but they weren't in Boston, and so he relaxed. He had told the Sanctuary about the approaching man who knew his true name. He had remembered when he'd slipped the friendship bracelet of his dead friend's onto his wrist. Now he just waited, sitting and watching for announcements, admittedly a little irritated by his son tugging at his shirt like that. River had gone to the bathroom and Memphis was a little ashamed by how awkward he found being around the infant was.  He heaved a sigh and tapped the child on the nose. "Beep." He murmured. Jaime giggled and 'beeped' him back. He let a smile play across his lips as his wife walked back towards him.

Amadeus had wrongly stated Vile was only after Boston. Vile did attack Boston and soon there was very little remaining, but Memphis had gotten away from him alive. The Sensitive was the one he really wanted to get back at, but the Sensitive was regrettably dead. Lord Vile's next target, therefore, was the airport where Memphis and his family awaited their plane.

He was drifting off, having had another bad night, which to him was a normal night, before they set off. River shook him awake, not that it was needed. The moment the first person screamed, he was instantly alert. He leapt to his feet, tucking Jaime into his jacket. He saw Vile ever so far away. His stormy grey eyes widened beneath the sunglasses and he grabbed his wife's wrist, pulling her along through security, over barriers, through ticket checks without producing a ticket, and security ignored him because of the Necromancer casually killing everyone. There was a flight still connected, door still not closed, and they thundered across to the plane. Vile didn't catch them up, thanks to the crowds. The plane set off as they finally found some empty seats. They had all their bags with them and felt a little self-conscious.

There was just one problem. They may have escaped immediate danger, but this plane was taking them to Ireland. They had been hoping to go to Australia, but nope. Ireland.


Amber Thorn had been called to South Africa urgently. She hadn't the slightest clue why, but Elder Toordoktor had sounded urgent and panicked.

She was led into a room in which there were two men speaking Norwegian...her head whipped round and she saw Elder Hoop and Grand Mage Skisma in the corner. There was a hissing sound. Both men frowned and looked round, then noticed her. There was a clicking noise, as though a door had been locked. They went to the door and tried to get it open, but it would not. No matter what they tried, the door would not open, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. They were being gassed, just as the American Sensitive said they would be, she just knew it...she began to panic and quickly blacked out.


Harrison found the way things changed to be...odd. He saw everything so differently now. He saw all the magic as a thing, a corporeal form rather than just a concept. It was strange. He had killed a few people accidentally after the self-defence thing at the hospital with the weird people coming in. He felt guilty about that and currently he was hiding, worrying about the raw power his true name was giving him. It was strange. He felt strange...and a little bit sick. He could master a lot of things. He no longer felt tied to elementalism. In fact, he was sure he had mimicked Dearth's old power of dreams earlier that day...with a rat...he was actually greatly enjoying exploring the world of knowing one's true name. It was thrilling and he had always been a curious person. He didn't even feel as bad about the idea of having to kill Scaramouch and Ekaterina and Hibernia any more. In fact, he had realised if he didn't do it quick and painless, Mevolent would get to them, slow and horrible...he raised himself into the air, marvelling at the ability to fly and how good it felt, and went to explore, careful to not be seen by the mortals below.

((Well...I tried to keep Charles dead...and I failed...I blame Aretha...and Perseus...I was doing fine at keeping him dead before Percy's scene in the last chapter...I guess he goes on my list of characters I can't Jasmin...and Harrison...and Mem...then again, Esra was on that list once, and look at him now...but I guess it was an eye for an eye, exchange the life of Charles for that of Amber, Loren and...uh...Hoop?))

1 comment:

  1. I know I should comment and say this was an amazing chapter (which it was), I am starting to really like a certain chapter (which I do and am not saying who...) and that little annoying kids on aeroplanes are bad (which they are) but I can't seen to be able to figure out a good way to put it all..
    Eh, that'll have to do...